


When Fortuna Smiles

by octoberinlondon



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 15:52:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1310491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octoberinlondon/pseuds/octoberinlondon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Promise me that we won’t lose each other. No matter what happens. Promise me that we will not let go of each other!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memories of the Past

Anne plays with her sister’s hair, an absent-minded smile dancing on her lips. She’s wrapping the dark strand of hair around her finger, _how beautiful Izzy looks. She always does_. Anne sighs at her thought, she will never be as pretty as her older sister is, she is sure. 

“Ouch, Annie! You little lump!” Isabel hisses as Anne pulls at one of the strands. 

“I’m sorry, Izzy. I was thinking…”

“About what? About little, weird Richard?” Anne grunts, something she’s been told not to do because it’s not lady like. She does it anyway. 

“Don’t you say that! Or do you want me to pull at your hair again?” 

Isabel jumps on her feet, shrieking. She tries to keep her little sister away from her, by bringing a pillow between them, like a shield that is supposed to protect her. Actually, Isabel has been told to behave like a lady, to be a good example for her younger sister, but she refuses to do so. It’s too much fun to play with Annie, and she loves her sister too much. 

As Isabel feels the bed against the hollows of her knees, she raises her hands. “I give up! Please, don’t pull at my hair, Annie. I promise I won’t say anything!” Anne smiles triumphantly. “Promise?” “Cross my heart!” 

Laughing, they jump on the bed before falling against the pillows with a simultaneous sigh. “Let’s be serious, Annie. Why do you like him so much?” Isabel asks softly, popping herself up on her elbow. Anne shrugs. She doesn’t know exactly why she does. “Why do you like George so much?” 

“That’s not fair, Annie!” 

“It’s a legitimate question.” Anne’s lips curl into a wide smile. She’s known Isabel would not like this question, and she’s known Isabel would blush. Her sister’s affection for Richard’s older brother has always been an amusement, as much as Isabel is amused by Anne’s affection for Richard. 

“Well, you know…he’s nice!” “Hearing the name _George_ and the word _nice_ in the same sentence is odd, very odd.”  
Isabel rolls her eyes. “That’s probably just because you don’t care about him as much as I do, Annie. George is really nice, and he is kind, at least to me.” She smiles, and closes her eyes, praying to see a picture of him before them. 

“I think you like him because he’s pretty.” Anne tries to tease Isabel, but she won’t listen to it. “He is pretty, indeed, but so is Papa’s other ward. Not Francis, Francis is of the same kind as Richard is.” 

“That’s not nice, Izzy. Poor Francis, I feel very sorry for him. Life’s not been kind to him.” 

Isabel nods, “I suppose you’re right, Annie. Are you ill? That’s wisdom beyond your years.” Isabel imitates their father’s voice, making Anne laugh. 

“Now, tell me, why do you like Richard? I told you why I like George, and now it’s your turn.” 

Anne grumbles something Isabel cannot understand, but she’s almost sure that Anne is not completely satisfied with the answer she’s given her. Her little Annie wants to know everything about love; Isabel has already overheard her asking their mother about it. Their beautiful, loving, and gentle mother. She remembers how their mother has just laughed and kissed Anne, telling her that what she feels for her little girls is the greatest love of all. 

“Richard treats my like I’m equal to him. He’s asked me for my opinion, you know. And I like holding his hand very much.” Anne blushes and tries to hide her face behind her pillow. 

“I hope the King will consent to our marriages. You would be my sister-in-law, Annie. Isn’t that weird?”

“It sounds really nice, don’t you think? You will be the Duchess of Clarence, and I will be the Duchess of Gloucester. I think Gloucester sounds a lot better than Clarence.” Anne grins as she hears Isabel’s annoyed intake of breath. It’s fun to tease her, but if she is honest, she has dreamed so many times about marrying Richard. He is _her Richard_. She’d only walk down the aisle for him and for no one else. 

“Anne?” “Yes?” 

“Promise me that we won’t lose each other. No matter what happens. No matter how the relationship of George and Richard develops, promise me that we will not let go of each other!”

Anne grabs Isabel’s hand and squeezes it tightly. 

“I promise you, Izzy.” 

Isabel pulls her little sister close. It always calms her to feel her sister’s warmth next to her. She doesn’t even want to imagine what it will feel like to lie in a bed without her. Her little, sweet Annie. How she has survived the five years before Anne’s birth, is still a mystery to her. Maybe George’s arms will be a nice substitute for Anne’s. 

Isabel smiles as she thinks about the little kiss he’s given her, it has made them both blush, and George who always knows what to say, has just smiled at her and cleared his throat to avoid stammering. Anne smiles because she thinks about how happy she and Richard will be, and how they will visit George and Isabel, accompanied by a bunch of little children. _How wonderful the future will be!_

Anne falls asleep, still with a smile on her lips. She’s unaware of the fact that the future she’s imagining and the actual future are two different countries. For now, her dreams keep her safe from harm.


	2. Haunting Ghosts of the Past

_Anne’s heart is pounding against her chest. It’s her wedding night and she is scared. Every girl is, her mother has told her. But she is sure she would not be scared when her husband would be Richard. Richard won’t come to her chamber tonight. He will probably never do so; all her dreams have been shattered. Her hands are shaking and she feels the cold creeping up her body._

_Edward of Westminster. Lancaster. Her father’s boisterous_ “All for York!” _has turned into a bleak_ “All for Lancaster!” _It’s a lie. Her father’s loyalties, every oath he has ever made, his love for her. Everything is a lie. She pulls the shift over her knees. Maybe he will give her time. Maybe he’s not a monster. Maybe that’s something his enemies have made up, much like her father used to spread rumours about every man being devoted to Lancaster._

_No one has told her what she’s supposed to do. Izzy is way to caught up in grief, she still mourns her baby and refuses to talk about anything else. Her mother has turned away from her, her lips trembling, not willing to answer the question that’s not been asked. Anne Beauchamp strongly opposes this marriage, but she is a woman, and she loves her husband. She doesn’t dare to disagree. Yet, all she wants to do is cry for her poor little bird, her little Annie._

_Anne hears footsteps. They seem to echo through the corridors. Soon, she thinks, soon it will be over. Maybe it won’t be that worse when she’ll be thinking about Richard the whole time. Yes, in her mind it’s Richard, not Edward. She will always be a Yorkist, not a Lancastrian._

_The door cracks open. His face is cold as ice as he looks at her. His mother is at his heels, she always is. Anne’s heart seems to skip a beat. If only it would stop beating forever! But it won’t do her the favour and starts to race in her chest._

_“I…I…” she tries to speak, but is unable to make a sound._

_Her prayers won’t be answered tonight._

She shrieks as she wakes up. Her hands are frantic as they search for his body next to her. The memories are burnt into her brain, no matter what she’s doing to get rid of them. “Anne?” He mutters. His voice is rough because he’s not completely awake. Her fingers dig deep into the skin of his chest, and he sits up with a sharp intake of breath. 

“Anne!” He gently grabs her by the shoulder, careful not to harm her. “Anne, I’m here. You’re with me. It’s Richard, not Edward.” Anne looks at him, her whole body is shaking. “Richard…” She finally whispers, falling against his chest. He wraps his arms around her, willing to protect her from harm. Anne clings to him like a child, her fingers tangled in his hair, her face pressed against his shoulder. 

She never talks about her time in France. She never talks about her first marriage. She never talks about her time as George’s ward, but Richard knows she’s dreaming about these times, and he knows these dreams are nightmares.

Richard gently strokes her hair and kisses her shoulder. “It was so real.” She murmurs. “I thought I would wake up and find him next to me.”  
“You know what’s real? This!” He frees her from his embrace, only to take her hand and press it against his chest. She can feel his heartbeat. Never has anything in her life calmed her as much as his heartbeat. It’s strong and steady. 

“He cannot harm you. He will never harm you again. No one will, as long as I am living.”

Richard removes her hand from his chest to kiss her palm. They’ve been married for such a short time. _Only two months, and she’s already the centre of my life_. He thinks. _I never thought I would be able to love someone so deeply._ He’s always felt something for Anne, but he’s never realised what it was, until his brother pulled him aside to tell him she would get married to Lancaster. He growls subconsciously at the thought of this bastard. 

It’s felt like someone was stabbing him with a sharp knife. It was the first time he’s ever felt the urge to fight his brother. Edward should have just given his consent, and Anne would have married him. _Not Lancaster_. Richard would have given everything to be the one to fight and kill him, but he hasn’t killed Lancaster, and maybe that’s good.

_Fortuna has been quite generous to us._

He lies down again, pulling Anne with him. Sometimes he wishes he wouldn’t be the brother of the king. Sometimes he wishes he wouldn’t be the Lord of the North. A life without duties, a life he could spend in his bed – with Anne. 

“I’m sorry, Richard. I didn’t mean to-…” 

“Shh, don’t be sorry.” He kisses her forehead. Anne snuggles closer. She feels so safe when she’s with him. Her first husband has made her pray to be barren. Now she prays for a whole bunch of children. Children with their father’s beautiful, dark green eyes, and with his rare smile. A smile that is only reserved for Anne. 

“Do you think I’ll be with child soon?” She murmurs, barely able to keep her eyes open. Richard realises immediately how much she needs to have a child. How much it will help her to get over the past, _but she’s so very young_. 

“We still have time…plenty of time even, my love.” 

“I like it when you call me ‘my love’, Richard.” She’s still fighting sleep. Richard chuckles and gently kisses her nose. 

“Then I will do it as often as I can, my love. You should sleep now, I’ll still be here tomorrow…I promise.” 

She sighs. She knows she can finally fall asleep without having a nightmare. He is here and he will still be here tomorrow. She feels the assuring heat of his body next to her. His arms are her protection, his heartbeat her consolation. She knows she is going to dream about Richard and their future this time. 

If only she could tell Isabel about it.


	3. Forget the Past

Edward has summoned them to court. Richard doesn’t even want to know what his brother has planned this time, but he tries to move as naturally as possible between the courtiers. He makes sure Anne is always close to him, or at least not out of his sight. He has more than one reason to protect her now. She’s carrying their first child. 

Anne blushes every time he carefully touches her stomach. Their child has not quickened yet, but Richard is always afraid of missing the first movements of his child. Every time he feels they’re out of attention, he places his hand on the barely visible rounding of her stomach. He smiles, causing Anne to sigh and lean her forehead against his. “Pray we’ll be able to return to Middleham, soon. I don’t want you or the child to be in danger.”

Anne laughs, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, Richard. We will be fine, there’s plenty of time until the babe will arrive, that’s what the midwife said to me.” His eyes soften and lose their concern for a few moments. His wonderful Anne. She’s the only one to wipe away all of his sorrows within a second. 

“Well…” he grins, “there’s actually another reason I want to return to Middleham as soon as possible.” Richard has to suppress a chuckle as Anne’s cheeks turn from pink to crimson. “Richard!” Anne whispers, pretending to be shocked. 

“See, there’s my little brother. I’ve been looking for you.” George is examining his younger brother and Anne, holding a goblet of wine. “I’d never thought you’d put your wife in danger and bring her into this rat’s nest, especially now!” George points at Anne’s stomach, and Richard clenches his fists. 

He cannot express how angry George makes him. He’s thought their quarrels would be over by now, but apparently, they’re not. And George is not playing fair, he’s pulling Isabel and Anne into this, not allowing Isabel to attend her sister’s labour, or even speaking to her. It pains Richard to see how much this hurts Anne.

Richard wants to put George in his place, but the roaring voice of his older brother stops him. “We’re not done!” George hisses and turns. Anne grabs Richard’s hand and he squeezes hers tightly. “He is still not over it, isn’t he?” She whispers softly. “No, he’s not. He still sees you as his property…and as I’ve married you, I’ve stolen something he regards to be his own.” 

Richard’s body becomes tense for a second. “I don’t care about your fortune, Anne. I’ve never done, but I don’t want George to win…because he’s wrong! And he’s hurt you enough already.” He growls. Richard knows how much Anne wants to forget everything that’s happened before he brought her into the safety of sanctuary, but he cannot forget the sight of his beautiful Anne, bruised and scared of the future. 

“I’ve forgotten about it, you should do the same.” She smiles. “Besides, I think the King wants us to join him.” She nods into the direction of Edward who looks at his brother and sister-in-law with a raised eyebrow. 

It still hurts Anne to be ignored by her sister. She has not seen her little niece yet, even though she desperately yearns to meet the little baby. She cannot help but think that Isabel is much more like their father was, much more than Isabel would like to know. She has broken a promise, as well. She’s been the one to make Anne promise they would never lose each other. Anne has seen her sister slipping through her fingers every day after she’s married George. Isabel loves George, and George loves her, but their definition of love is completely different to Anne and Richard’s. 

“How are you?” Anne almost jumps as she hears the whisper behind her. She turns, slowly, because she’s afraid of it being only her imagination. “I’m fine. We’re fine.” She murmurs and gently touches her stomach. “How is Margaret?” Isabel blushes; she knows why Anne isn’t asking how she is. “Very well, she seems to grow every day. George is doting on her, he still wants a boy, but he loves Margaret very much.”

“And he finally allows you to talk to me?” Isabel is surprised how grown up Anne seems to be. The little girl she’s known seems to be gone. She’s a young woman now, married and expecting her first child. “No, but I couldn’t bear it any longer, oh Annie, I’m so sorry.” Isabel takes Anne’s hand and squeezes it. “I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry you won’t be with me when I give birth.” Isabel shakes her head, smiling. “You know, I will find a way. I want to be with you. Send for me, as soon as you’re in your confinement. I promise I’ll be there.” Isabel lets go of Anne’s hand and leaves.

“I can’t believe your promise.” Anne murmurs, trying to hold back the tears. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Richard’s fingers gently caress the soft curves of her body. He will confess tomorrow and ask for forgiveness, even though he has no idea why this should be a sin. He’s making love to his wife, the fact that she’s with child shouldn’t turn this wonderful thing into a sin. He’s glad to be back at home, away from court. He’s glad he is finally able to lie with her like this. He likes every change her body is going through right now. He kisses her collarbone. 

“Richard!” She giggles. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” “I can never have enough of this!” He laughs and his hand starts to roam her body again. She tangles her fingers in his curls, pulling him closer. He looks up, as she lets go of him. “What is it?” He’s worried and his hand comes to rest on her stomach. 

“Will you take a mistress when I’m in confinement?” She asks, and he knows immediately she is serious about this. “Why should I take one?” Anne shrugs, trying to avoid his eyes. “Well, you’re a man. Men do this, don’t they?” 

He bursts into laughter. “I am a man, indeed, but why should I take a mistress when I know there’s something worth waiting for?” He nudges her nose with his. She smiles one of these little, shy smiles he loves so much. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to doubt you Richard, I’m just-…” She gasps and Richard’s eyes widen. 

“Did you just…?” “Yes!” Richard grins and lowers himself until his face and her stomach are on the same level. “Hello, little one.” He chuckles as he feels another kick, stronger than the one before. He kisses her stomach, before he starts to rub it gently. “Can’t wait to meet you.” He murmurs softly as Anne starts to play with his curls. She prays Fortuna will be always on their side.


	4. A New Beginning

_Death has never been closer._

She’s only seventeen. She’s supposed to have a long life, but she feels it is slipping through her fingers. _All this blood…is it my blood? Should I care?_ Her head is spinning. 

Death has been a constant companion. He has taken her father, and her first husband. Sometimes she still grieves for her father, but she feels nothing for her first husband. She knows a good Christian would feel something, anything, but she doesn’t. _Will you take me now?_ She blinks, there’s nothing but darkness surrounding her. 

_Richard_. She thinks about how selfish she is because she wants to stay with him. She wants to see him holding their child. She wants to give him more children, and she wants to see him play with them. _You cannot take me with you, Death. I have to stay. I cannot go, not now…but I’m so tired..._ She feels someone slapping her carefully. She realises it’s her sister, trying to bring her back. 

“Annie! Don’t close your eyes again. You will feel better soon, I promise, just don’t close your eyes again.” 

Anne blinks again, it’s still dark. The darkness scares her, still.

“Light some more candles!” Isabel barks, knowing how much her sister is afraid of the dark. The midwife, who has known both of them since the day they were born, immediately tells her helpers to do as Isabel has said. She’s attended their births, back when she was still a young woman, and now she’s guided the duchess through the birth of her own child, and she is not willing to let her die, neither is Isabel.

“Your Grace, open your eyes. It will help. You haven’t seen your babe.” 

It is working, the young duchess groans, blinking several times again, before she opens her eyes. 

“Bring the child! Hurry!” 

The midwife and Isabel help Anne to sit. Anne shrieks in pain and wants to fall back against the pillows, but the two won’t allow it. Isabel holds her hand, firmly, and tries to convince her it is the best thing to do now. 

“I’m sure you want to hold your child.”  
“I can’t.” Anne murmurs, oh, she is so tired. She just wants to sleep so badly. She doesn’t even know whether her child is a boy, or a girl; she doesn’t care about that right now. _Richard wouldn’t care_. She thinks. 

“Hurry!” The midwife shouts. Don’t they see the duchess needs her child? Finally, she is able to hand the bundle over to the duchess. 

“It’s a boy, Anne.” Isabel whispers, taking care that Anne holds him close to her. Anne’s eyes widen. _A boy_! Her first born is a boy. Suddenly, there’s no pain. There’s no weariness. There’s just her son. 

“Can you fetch Richard?” She whispers and the Isabel nods, glad to see Anne’s spirits have returned. 

“I will fetch him immediately, Anne. I promise.” Anne’s the only one to hear her words, but they manage to bring a smile back on her pale face. 

Isabel nods and the midwife gets up. There’s no need to tell the young duke that his duchess is fading. She will be fine, she’s sure. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We should go hunting, or do something else. You need to leave this place for a few hours, Richard.”

Richard grunts; _he will not leave! Not now!_ How could he? 

“I’m glad your wife won’t be in labour so soon, Francis.”

Richard can hear Francis’ sharp intake of breath. He knows it’s not fair. He knows how much Francis suffers in his marriage, or rather from the fact that his wife’s family is doing everything to keep them apart. He knows how much Francis wants children. 

His thoughts and stubbornness prevent him from taking back everything he’s said. 

The young man jumps as one of Anne’s ladies knocks at the door, every muscle in his body seems to be about to burst. “Your Grace.” She bows. “The child is born, but we’re afraid of the Duchess…” 

She cannot even finish her message and follows Richard with a touch of confusion in her eyes. Francis has forgotten about the thorn that Richard has poked into his heart, he is as worried about Anne as Richard is. He follows Richard in a distance, watching him as he storms into the birthing chamber. 

Richard smells blood, sweat, and tears, something that makes him think of a battlefield. _Probably_ , he thinks, _probably a birth is its own kind of battle_. Isabel touches his arm, nodding. “She’s alright. Go to her, it will make her much stronger than she already is.”

Richard takes a deep breath, the bed looks so vast, and Anne so small. She looks pale, yet she is smiling and her smile makes the warmth spread within his chest. The bundle she’s holding looks smaller than the ones of Elizabeth and his brother, but he doesn’t care. 

He slips into her bed, carefully, not wanting to hurt her, and wraps his arms gently around her. “Richard.” Anne whispers, her eyes look like two shining sapphires to him. “This is our boy.” Richard kisses her forehead before he buries his head in the crook of her neck, trying to hide the tears. _A boy_. “Well done, Anne. _My wonderful Anne_.” The last words are nothing but a sweet whisper, only meant for Anne’s ears. 

Anne frees herself from Richard’s embrace to place his son into his arms. She has to laugh a bit because Richard looks so helpless. A worry line appears between his eyes and he gasps as the little bundle starts to move. “Support his head.” Anne tells him and removes her hand from the head of her son, leaving the little one only to be held by his father. 

Richard blinks, he feels speechless and not able to describe the warm feeling that is flooding his body now. Slowly, step by step, a little smile steals its way on to his lips. The smile soon turns into a loud and honest laughter, making Francis, who is still waiting outside, smile. Everything is fine. 

“What shall we name him, Richard?” 

“Edward, after my brother…if you don’t mind.”

Richard is completely aware of the fact that Anne will probably be never comfortable with this, but he feels it’s the best way to honour his brother.

“Edward sounds good.” She smiles, snuggling closer to him. “Yes, it sounds good. I’m sure Ned will gladly share his nickname with him. How do you like that, Ned?” Richard grins as he receives a little gurgle in response. 

He cannot help but thank fortune once again, praying that it will keep favouring them.


End file.
